Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I keep telling myself that I just left it there so I could remember to give it back to him the next time we’re both going to be at some kind of business thing, either a photoshoot or an interview or what have you. But really, I think I’m just giving myself a subconscious excuse to hang onto it for just a little while longer.
This is totally different from what I did with Norman’s crap, I tell myself. It’s just one stupid tie. And I’m not holding onto it really. I’m saving it for him.
Even I don’t believe me, though.
“Between work and your boy toy treating you like used dog shit?” Becky interrupts my thought cycle.
“He’s not that bad,” I start, but now it’s her turn to speak over me.
“What did we agree after Norman?” She clicks her tongue, disapproving.
“No defending guys while I’m in the throes of a breakup,” I mumble.
“Right, because you always get into a bad habit of putting their needs before yours, and that’s bullshit.” I hear gum pop on the other end of the line. “So, okay. Spa day. If it’ll help take your mind off things, I’m in.”
I force myself to smile, even though it’s harder now that Becky brought up Lark. I’d been hoping for a day of not thinking about him. But she’s right. Spa day is just what I need. I tell her the address of my favorite spa in town, a cute one that has hot and cold plunge baths, steam rooms, facials and massages, the works.
Not that I can usually afford the works. I’m more of the, wait until there’s a 50% coupon day, then go and enjoy the bare minimum activities there, type girl.
Today, though… I grin at my check one more time, planning to swing by the bank on my way to the spa to deposit it. Today, I’m going all out. Fuck it. I deserve the pampering.
I meet Becky in the parking lot, and she pulls me into the tightest hug. I don’t realize how much I needed that until I squeeze her back tightly, and we both let go with matching eager grins.
“Okay, time to act like the most spoiled rich bitches there are,” she announces, and I snort under my breath, following her inside.
The minute we buy our tickets—all-inclusive packages, thank you very much—the attendant’s expression changes, in a way it never has when I’ve been here before, barely scraping enough together for the discount tickets. She ushers us into a private changing room big enough to fit half my bedroom, then wraps us both in fluffy towel-like bath towels before leaving us alone to change.
Once we’re ready, we’re taken to a whole different pool area from the one I’m used to. This one is on the rooftop, complete with…
“Oh hell yes,” Becky calls over her shoulder. “Swim-up bar!”
Sure enough, the jacuzzi—if you can call a pool this big a jacuzzi, although it certainly feels like one when I wade into it—has its own bar attached. Although, I notice all the cocktails are mostly juice, with a hint of diet alcohol splashed in. Oh well, guess a health spa can only serve so much alcohol before it doesn’t count as healthy anymore, right?
We share a green juice cocktail that somehow tastes fortifying, delicious and decadent at once. Then we drift around the hot pool—ignoring the cold plunge pool entirely, because frankly, I came here to get spoiled, not subject myself to borderline torture—waiting for our scheduled massage times.
As we drift, Becky eyes me. I can practically feel her next words coming, and I brace myself. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine,” I reply, a little too quick and loudly. I clear my throat and sip more of my tasty cocktail. “I mean, you know… it’s not like anybody died. It’s just a breakup. And it wasn’t that long of a…” I shake my head, laughing, mostly at myself. “God, it wasn’t even a relationship, really. We just hooked up for a few weeks, that’s all.”
My stomach tightens at the lie. It wasn’t all. Not for me.
“You really liked him, though,” Becky says, proving once again that the girl notices more than I usually give her credit for. She leans back against the wall, head tipped onto the side, watching me from the corner of her eye as she lets her body float. “It’s still hard, even if it was just a short thing.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, and prop myself up against the wall next to her, setting my cocktail aside for the moment. “It is.”
“So, you really are officially done? I mean, you went over to his place and gave him back his tie and everything.”
I grimace. I forgot I told Becky about that part.
She notices, and sets her own cocktail down, her expression shifting into another one I’m all too familiar with: stern mother mode. “Cassidy.”